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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028018">Valentine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antosha/pseuds/Antosha'>Antosha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Bunnies, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Really - very fluffy, Silly harry, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:34:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antosha/pseuds/Antosha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny has news; Harry has a guess. (Written pre-DH.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Valentine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My entry for the hbp_ficafest Valentine Challenge. </p><p>Challenge: 3. Ginny has some news for Harry and decides Valentine’s Day is the perfect setting.</p><p>Warnings: FLUFF. STRAIGHT, UNADULTERATED FLUFF. Young-married!Harry/Ginny. Quidditch-players!Harry/Ginny. Oy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry's muscles screamed at him as he straightened up after stepping out of the Floo into the Grimmauld Place kitchen... but what he saw there put his Quidditch-sore back and arms out of his mind.</p><p>On the old oak table stood a vase with a single red rose propping up a card. Behind these lay his favorite dress robes. Dropping his kit and leaning his broom against the mantle, Harry walked over and plucked up the card.<br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Dearest Harry,<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Happy St Valentine's!<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have something special planned (in the </em>
  <em>
    <span class="u">dining room</span>
  </em>
  <em>, you prat!), so make yourself beautiful for the woman you love, and budge on up to where a romantic dinner awaits.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your Valentine always,<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ginny<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>PS I have some news.<br/><br/></em>
</p><p>With a grin, Harry began to strip off his shower-damp clothes, tossing them into the hamper for kitchen linens by the sink.</p><p>News. Ginny had been very odd for the past few days, and Harry was fairly certain he knew why. She was jumpy and skittish and had been on the Floo to her mother and Hermione constantly. She had barely touched her breakfast all week. Harry had had to gently berate her--it wouldn't do for her to head off to Wasps practice on an empty stomach.</p><p>There was <em>that</em>... It was wonderful to be married to someone who was as good a Seeker as he was himself. That they'd never been able to play on the same team since Hogwarts was a shame, but they were two of the three or four best in the league, and even though their only chances to play on the same pitch had been the eight Puddlemere/Wimbourne matches (Ginny and he had taken the Snitch four times apiece), those matches had been some of the most exhilarating that Harry had ever played in.</p><p>The bloody press loved it, of course. But sod them.</p><p>Now, though--when he, Ginny and old Alan Smithee were up for the two Seeker positions on the all-England side--if Ginny were...</p><p>Harry shook his head. What did Quidditch matter? Harry knew his own heart's desire--had seen it when he was eleven years old. Nothing in the world mattered to him more than family. Ginny was his family. And if... If Ginny couldn't fly for England, Harry would sit out too, and that was that.</p><p>Fastening the last button on the dark green, silk-and-wool robes that Ginny had spent most of her first Wasps paycheck on four years before, Harry ran his fingers through his still-damp hair, plucked the rose from the bud vase for his lapel, and put a small package from his kit into the inside pocket of his robes. Then, after a quick, steadying breath, he walked up the stairs toward the dining room.<br/><br/></p><p>***</p><p>Harry was not surprised to discover that the surprise was his favorite dinner--prime rib, Yorkshire pudding, and even treacle tart for afters. From the moment that he had walked in, the two of them had beamed at each other.</p><p>Throughout dinner, it felt as if they were newlyweds again. Ginny blushed and giggled nervously, while Harry found himself grinning like a madman. Married to the most beautiful woman in the world? Playing a <em>game</em> for a living? All of the horrors that had plagued their childhoods swept away with nothing worse than some scars and some portraits in the entry hall to remind them of what and whom they had lost? And the ranks of loved ones was <em>growing</em>...</p><p>Bill and Fleur had three, Tonks was pregnant with her and Charlie's second, Ron and Hermione's first was born the previous fall. And <em>now...<br/></em></p><p>Harry felt at the gold rattle that he'd picked up the day before. He'd had it engraved: <em>Nothing I could give you will ever equal the gifts you have given me</em>. He knew she would tell him he was being silly, that it wasn't true--but she would cry. He knew that too.</p><p>As he finished the last of his pudding--she'd barely touched hers, just as she'd nibbled bird-like at the rest of the wonderful dinner--Ginny cleared her throat.</p><p>Harry looked up and waited for her to speak, but she seemed frozen. Bright circles blossomed on her cheeks and she gnawed at her lower lip. He hadn't seen her like this in years. Reaching out, he said, “It's all right love. I promise that whatever it is, I'll be just as happy as you are.”</p><p>She took his hand and smiled gratefully. Taking a deep breath, she sat up straight and said, “Harry, I... I do have some... news for you.”</p><p>Harry tried to keep from grinning too maniacally. “I know. You said in your note.” Squeezing her hand, he said softly, “Just say it, love.”</p><p>“Harry, I'm...” She looked down at their linked hands. “I'm going to be flying as the reserve for England.”</p><p>Harry's stomach dropped.</p><p>Ginny peered up and saw his shock; her own face blanched. “Oh... Oh, <em>hell</em>!” she muttered. “I was afraid... Harry, love, you <em>know</em> you deserved it every bit as much as I did--<em>more</em>--”</p><p>“No,” Harry managed to say.</p><p>“But it makes sense that they'd make Smithee the starter--it's his last shot, he's earned it. And I guess they thought... Oh, <em>Harry</em>!”</p><p>She was beginning to tear up--he'd known she'd be crying tonight, he simply hadn't figured on <em>this</em>. Clutching her hand hard, he said, “Ginny, this is <em>wonderful</em>. It really is. You deserve it. You've earned it. I'm so happy for you and proud for you I can't stand it.”</p><p>It was Ginny's turn to be struck dumb with shock. “I... <em>Really?</em>”</p><p>“Of course! What did you think? You're <em>brilliant</em>, Ginny. It's about time someone recognized that!”</p><p>“Oh, Harry!” Tears still streaming from her eyes, Ginny slid around the table and into his lap, and that was all that either of them said for quite a long time.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>When their celebration of the holiday had reached a natural breathing point, Harry wrapped Ginny in his outer robes, pulling his wife to him.</p><p>“Hmmmm,” she murmured, snuggling up under his chin. “Are you my Valentine?”</p><p>“Always. Fresh-pickled eyes and all.”</p><p>“Hmmmmm.” She swatted at his arm, and then pulled the robes tighter to her. Suddenly, her hand stopped over the lump in the robes' pocket. “Harry?”</p><p>“Hmmm?”</p><p>“What's in your pocket?”</p><p>“Uh....”</p><p>“Silly. Your <em>robes</em>.”</p><p>“Oh.” Suddenly, Harry's mind flashed back to his original assumption. “Um, nothing.”</p><p>“Harry?” Ginny murmured, kissing her way up towards his ear. “Do you have a <em>present</em> for me?”</p><p>“Um...”</p><p>Quick Seeker's fingers tugged the jeweler's box out of Harry's robe. “Is this for <em>me</em>?” Ginny said, smiling gleefully.</p><p>“Uh, Ginny, it, erm, is, or it <em>was</em>, but...” What would she think of him giving her--? “Maybe not this--”</p><p>Smirking mischievously, Ginny rolled off of Harry's chest, sat up and turned the box in her hand. Harry tried to grab it, but she anticipated the attempt and all that Harry was able to wrap his fingers around was her wrist. “Ginny, love...”</p><p>“Harry.” Her eyes bored into him; she kept the tension on her arm so that he couldn't take the box from her. “What is it?”</p><p>“Erm, Ginny,” he mutters. “I... I knew that something was up, I knew that you had something that you were going to tell me tonight, and I... erm, I got it wrong.”</p><p>Ginny's face became still and small--it is the face she wore when she was frightened, Harry knew, and he began to feel even worse. “Should I open this, Harry?”</p><p>He let go of her arm and touched her face. When Harry had done embarrassing things over the years, Ginny usually found it amusing. Would she think this funny, or would she be hurt? “Ginny. It's a present for you, and I meant it with love--”</p><p>She held up her free hand and smiled. “Harry. Can I see it?”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>Sitting up, Ginny removed the ribbon from the velvet box and slowly opened it. At first, she scowled. Then, slowly, an impish grin spread across her face. “Harry. What the hell is <em>this</em>?”</p><p>“Um. I thought...”</p><p>A low chuckle burbled up from Ginny's chest. “Oh, Harry, you thought I was <em>pregnant</em>?”</p><p>Abashed, unable to speak, Harry nodded again.</p><p>The chuckle rolled into laughter. “Harry! Why?”</p><p>He could feel blood flooding up into his face. Only Ginny could still make him blush. “Erm... Your appetite? And you were sort of... pale?”</p><p>Still laughing, she leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips. “Oh, Harry. You are so sweet.”</p><p>Warm relief spread through Harry. After kissing her back, he whispered in her ear, “Look at the inscription.”</p><p>She gazed at him for a moment, a question hanging on her lips, and then pulled the rattle out of its case. Her chin fell and she looked back up into his face. “Harry?”</p><p>“It's true, Ginny,” he sighed. “You have given me everything I have ever wanted. You are all that I have ever wanted. I'm so proud of you about the World Cup team--you deserve it and I can only be happy that you've been recognized for what you've earned. I'm your Valentine today and every day. And whether or not there's ever someone to play with that rattle, I--”</p><p>She stopped his babbling with another kiss.</p>
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